


A Dark And Stormy Night

by AemeliaBea



Category: The Tempest - Shakespeare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fem!Ferdinand, Fem!Stephano, Fem!Trinculo, Genderbending, Modern Retelling, and a bratty ferdinand, ariel and caliban are ghosts, ghost story, it's literally just the tempest but with more spooks, prospero can communicate with them and control them, takes place in a creepy mansion instead of an island, who is actually a teenage lesbian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-09-23 09:57:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17078156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AemeliaBea/pseuds/AemeliaBea
Summary: After Prospero's brother usurped his inheritance, he ended up banished a huge mansion in the middle of nowhere with his daughter, Miranda, and only the ghosts of the house's previous occupants to keep him company. That is until his brother, and his coworkers happen to drive by on a road trip... and when their car breaks down they have no choice but to come to the haunted house... A modern ghost story retelling of The Tempest! Inspired by a Tumblr post





	1. Chapter 1

It was a dark and stormy night.

Wind whistled in the trees and howled alongside the road, and the rapidly weakening yellow low beam headlights of the large grey minivan scuttling down the highway were barely enough to light the next few feet, much less the entire road. The man in the driver’s seat clutched the wheel with a death grip so tightly his knuckles turned white, trying desperately not to betray his nerves to the others, while in the passenger seat next to him, his companion’s head tilted back and mouth hung open, slightly agape, and snoring just the slightest bit. Smooth jazz played over the radio but it could be barely heard over the lashing of the rain on the windshield or the sound of the wind howling and the thunder rumbling.

 “If only the damn high beams worked this would be a hell of a lot easier,” he muttered to himself under his breath.

The man in the seat next to him snorted again, louder this time, and then opened his eyes blearily only to be met with an equally blurry sight through the rain stained windshield in front of him. His eyes snapped open quickly and he was suddenly wide awake.

“Alonso, what are you doing? We need to pull over! We’re never gonna make it in this storm, not with this rickety old van.”

“We’re not pulling over,” Alonso said. “We’re going to make it to Chicago tonight.”

“The night’s halfway over, Alonso, and you’ve been driving for almost the entire trip, at least let someone else take a turn.”

“If we had stopped at the rest stop like I’d suggested like two hours ago, maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation right now, because we’d be getting rest like we need!” the blonde man in the middle seat piped up.

“Or if we’d just not taken this stupid shortcut that Dad promised us would take us somewhere, maybe I’d be in a warm bed right now instead of in this stupid van fearing for my life on this godforsaken abandoned highway in the middle of absolutely fucking nowhere!” the girl sitting next to him piped up. “I don’t even have cell service out here.”

“You have absolutely no right to complain, young lady,” Alonso snapped at his daughter, glancing at her for an instant in the rearview mirror. “You were under no obligation to come with us on this trip at all, and you better be grateful that I was kind enough to let you come on business.”

“And I still don’t understand why I need my stupid old drunk nanny to take care of me, when I’m _literally_ sixteen years old. I’m not a child anymore, I don’t need her.”

“Don’t talk about Stephanie like that,” Alonso chided.

His daughter turned around in her seat to see the nanny in question, a middle aged woman with dirty blonde hair and a half empty bottle in her hand sprawled out on the shoulder of the lady sitting next to her, not moving, or being woken by the commotion happening.

“She’s fast asleep, probably knocked unconscious by all the beer she’s had already today,” she said with a derisive snort. “I swear, at least I know not to get drunk on a fucking road trip.”

“You watch your language, Fernanda,” Alonso said. “Or I swear, I will turn this car right around, and we _won’t_ go to Chicago.”

“You’re not gonna turn the car around,” Fernanda said, checking her phone again, only to be disappointed by the continued no signal message on the screen.

“And put that phone away, it’s hard enough to see the road as it is,” Alonso said.

“Lay off her Al,” Sebastian said from the front seat. “She’s just a kid, and we’re all sleepy and disoriented right now. We’ve been driving for almost ten hours straight. We really should have stopped at the rest stop like Antonio suggested.”

“Well fine, if you all know how to get us there better, then maybe you should be the driver. Oh wait. You’re not. So pipe down and let me drive, you’re all distracting me. Do I need to turn up the jazz?”

“Dear god, no!”

“Fernanda. Please.”

“Also I’m not a kid, shut up, Sebastian.”

“Do not speak to your uncle that way!” Alonso cried.

“I’ll speak to him however I want, you’re not the fucking boss of me!”

“I told you to watch your language! You are making a stressful situation even more stressful and I’ve had quite enough of your back talk young lady.”

“Yeah, because you don’t even trust me enough to take me on a family trip without bringing along my stupid nanny!”

In the midst of the yelling, Alonso’s eyes suddenly widened as a white figure seemed to materialize out of the rain in the yellow glow of the headlights on the slick pavement in front of him. The figure stood there unmoving, unblinking, and Alonso yelled, swerving to avoid them. Then everything happened so fast. The car hydroplaned, Alonso slammed on the brakes but they were completely useless as the car swerved directly off the road and straight into a ditch before coming to an abrupt stop and the airbags going off with a loud pop. Someone screamed, and then in an instant, everything was silent except for the pounding of the rain on the roof of the car. The engine had completely died.

After a moment of shocked silence, Alonso got his bearings enough to croak out, “is everyone okay? Is anyone hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Sebastian murmured, staring at the airbag that had deployed in front of him.

“Same here,” Antonio said from the backseat.

“I’m okay, no thanks to you!” Fernanda cried. “What was that? You just swerved like you’d seen a fucking ghost!”

Alonso suddenly realized that his hands were shaking, and he felt very woozy and lightheaded all of a sudden. “You… you didn’t see that?” he said, his voice as soft and shaky as he felt, and to his brief surprise, Fernanda fell silent too.

“I didn’t see anything,” she insisted.

“What the heck is going on?” A slurred voice from the backseat. Fernanda leaned back to see her nanny, Stephanie, raise her head and open her bleary eyes.

“Ah, the drunk nanny awakens,” Fernanda said.

“We’ve crashed,” Antonio said. “Not to worry, Stephanie, we’re going to be okay.”

“Is Trink okay?” Fernanda said suddenly. “She was asleep when we crashed, she looks dead!”

Stephanie reached over and held up the arm of the lady sitting next to her. Her arm fell back onto the seat, limp. Stephanie hiccupped twice, and then fell over on top of her, fast asleep again, in a strange drunken stupor. Fernanda rolled her eyes.

“Yeah. Great thing we brought those two. Stephanie and Trink, the fuckin’ dream team.”

“How can you be sarcastic at a time like this?” Antonio asked her. “Are you sure you’re okay? Did you hit your head?”

“Alonso?” Sebastian said. “Are you… okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I… I think I did…” Alonso said.

“Good grief, are we just gonna sit around in this car talking or are we gonna go try and look for help?” Fernanda cut in. She pulled out her phone to find no more luck than before. “Shit, it’s still dead. We can’t call anyone for help, and we’re sitting out in the middle of nowhere." 

“Wait. Look!” Antonio pointed past Fernanda past the tree they’d hit on their way into the ditch. A large dark shadow loomed on a hill above them and right when the occupants of the car turned to look, lightning struck with a blinding flash right behind it, illuminating the dark shape to reveal a very large, very run down looking old house.

“Oh. Cool. A giant abandoned looking house in the middle of nowhere in a storm at night. Let’s go there. What could possibly go wrong?” Fernanda said, her voice still dripping with sarcasm.

“If you don’t want to go, you can wait in the car and see if you can get a signal,” Antonio said. “I think we should try our luck at the house.  Maybe someone lives there who can help us. Or at least give us a place to stay the night. We’re not gonna get anywhere here.”

“Okay, have fun dying,” Fernanda said, slouching back into her seat in indifference and checking her phone again. Still no signal. “Well, fine. I guess if I have a choice between staying in the car and going and checking out the creepy fucking house, I’ll take the car. Someone’s gotta watch over my nanny anyway.”

“If you get a signal, call for help right away,” Alonso instructed her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “And stay in the car, all right?”

“All right, all right,” Fernanda muttered, the tone in her father’s voice and the look in his eyes startling her for the first time. It was far scarier than the storm itself. She sat back and watched as her dad, Sebastian, and Antonio headed up towards the creepy house.

“There’s literally no way this is gonna end well,” she muttered to herself, as they were quickly swallowed up by rain and darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Miranda had always liked the sound of rain pattering on the windows, but this was a bit more than a patter. The rain lashed, and the thunder boomed, startling her slightly, although she tried her best to hide it.

Prospero, sitting in his typical armchair in the parlor, glanced at his daughter, who sat near the window, staring out at it and trying to see past the darkness and the rain. He didn’t say a word, but watched her reaction as lightning lit up the field outside. Suddenly Miranda gasped.

“Father!” She stood, pressing her face to the glass. “Father, did you hear that? That was more than thunder, that sounded like a crash! Is anybody out there?”

“Calm down, honey, it’s all right,” her father said.

Miranda turned to him, trying to conceal the fact that her hands were shaking. She had weathered many storms throughout her life, but this was for certain one of the worst. The house was old and creaky, and she wondered how well it might hold up against a lightning strike. The wiring was old… what if the entire house went down in flames?

“I’m scared,” she admitted. “This storm doesn’t seem to be letting up.”

Prospero sighed, setting down his book with a bookmark in it, and leaning over to light another candle on the table nearby.

“Come here, Miranda,” he said, motioning for her to sit next to him on the couch by the armchair. She gladly obliged, grabbing a blanket from the floor and wrapping it around herself, as if to keep the fear out. She curled her legs up beneath her and settled into the soft cushions of the couch. At least the storm was outside, and she was inside. “I don’t want to keep things from you anymore, my girl. It seems as if it’s about time.”

The young girl tilted her head in confusion. “About time for what?”

“To tell you the truth. About who I am. Who you are. And why we are here.”

Suddenly, all thoughts of the storm and rain were banished from Miranda’s mind, and she found herself leaning forward, towards her father. After all this years… she was finally going to discover more than the cryptic things her father had continually told her?

“And to tell you the truth again, that sound outside that you heard? That wasn’t thunder. It was a wreck. A car crash.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I was the one who caused it.”

Confusion covered her face at that remark. “But…?”

“Well, technically Ariel was the one who caused it. But I was the one who told Ariel to do it.”

“Why?”

“Miranda… there’s a bit I haven’t told you. About your past. About everything. Much that I would have kept from you for… well, forever if possible. But I can’t keep it from you any longer. Because tonight, Miranda, for the first time in years and years, we’re going to have visitors to the mansion.”

Miranda’s heart skipped a beat. “Visitors?”

“Let me tell you a story, my dear. Or rather, let me finish one. You know you are my daughter, and you know that we live here and can never return to the city. But what you don’t know is that your father, I was once rich. Rich beyond our wildest dreams. Our family, you see, had some inheritance. And of course, me being the oldest in our family, I was all set to inherit those riches. We were going to live like royalty for the rest of our days… But as you may not know, I have a brother. An uncle to you. Younger than I, and never one that my parents liked much. It was always pretty much a given that he would receive less inheritance than I. But that was… not what happened.”

Miranda scooted closer to him, hanging onto his every word. She had never heard the rest of this story, and her mouth was agape as she finally learned the full story of her past and her family history.

“You see, my brother was jealous, and conniving,” Prospero continued. “He was friends with a very, very powerful man. This man had other friends in high places, and due to this influence, he was able to convince his parents that he was the one who was far more deserving of the inheritance than I. 

“They gave the inheritance to him, every penny. Well, almost every penny. After my wife, your mother, passed away, my parents couldn’t bring themselves to leave me with absolutely nothing. I had no job, you see, as I was to take care of you. And so they gave me this house. It’s been in our family for generations, but had been long ago abandoned. Being in the middle of nowhere and all. They gave me this house and enough money to live on for a bit, and essentially told me to get out. A nice house in the middle of nowhere, they thought was comparable to an entire inheritance! And despite the inheritance, my awful brother remains, working for the same friend who helped to betray me all those years ago, even though he has enough money that he doesn’t even need to.

“I took you when I was banished, because there was nowhere else for you to go, and I wouldn’t put you up for adoption. You… you were all I had left, my darling. And that, Miranda, is why you’re here. Why we live here. But all that… all that is going to change tonight.”

“What… what do you mean?” Stunned, Miranda tried to take it all in, but it was a lot of new information and she was having a bit of trouble processing.

“That crash you heard? I could tell who was in that car. It’s Alonso. My brother.”

“What?”

“Your uncle is here tonight, making his way up to the mansion right now as we speak. I had a premonition and told Ariel to get their car off the road so they would have no choice but to stop here. And tonight, at long long last, I will get the revenge I so greatly deserve. I will get rid of Alonso and we will finally be able to be rid of this dusty old house, and return to the lives we deserve, my daughter!”

“Glad you’re telling me this now,” Miranda said. “You couldn’t have told me before this happened?”

“You were young, my girl, you wouldn’t understand.”

“But why didn’t we just go back? Why did we have to stay here?” Miranda said. “Was there anything technically forcing us to stay in this house? You always said I wasn’t even allowed to step outside for more than a few minutes at a time!”

“We can’t risk returning. My parents, and Antonio, made it very clear that they did not want to see me again. Antonio stole what was rightfully mine, and my parents are now dead. Antonio would never dream of allowing me to return. If I did, we would be cast out on the street immediately.”

“But—”

“Shhhhh, why don’t you go to your room?” Prospero said, motioning to the ceiling, from which descended a wispy spirit, which wrapped itself around Miranda’s body and she slumped forward, fast asleep in an instant. The spirit lifted her up, carrying her upstairs and laying her gently in her bed.

“Ariel,” Prospero hissed.

The ghost appeared before him in an instant, translucent, almost transparent but not quite, taking his usual form. A tall man, with long legs, and jet black hair, wearing an old fashioned suit and tie. 

“Yes, master?”

“Did you do as I commanded you?”

“Yes, you don’t have to talk like that,” Ariel said, in his grumpy fashion. “The car has crashed, and three of them are approaching the house even as we speak.”

“Was Antonio one of them?”

“I believe so.”

“And none of them were hurt?”

“No, no, all alive. A few of them stayed behind in the car, but they’ll be in soon enough, I can assure you, sir.”

“Excellent! Now very soon they’ll be in my domain, and I’ll show that sniveling weakling cowardly brother of mine what my true power is, and that he certainly can’t get rid of me that easily! Anything else?

“Yes, master… I actually, uh… wanted to talk to you about something.”

Prospero looked up at the ghost almost wearily, leaning forward and putting his fingers together. “Yes?” 

“Well… you know how you said about a year ago that if I served you without complaint for a very long time, that you’d finally release the power you’ve been withholding and let me pass on?”

Prospero was silent. Ariel took a deep breath and continued. 

“Pass on? Like… to the afterlife? Free me from this house I am chained to?” Another pause. “Well… I was just wondering, uhhh… how much… how much longer is that going to be. Not that I’m complaining! At all, I love, I love serving you, Prospero, I do.”

“Ariel, you’ve forgotten your place,” Prospero said, his voice low. “I may be living, but I have power you could never dream of. And don’t forget that if it weren’t for me, you’d still be trapped in your old bedroom.”

“And I will never stop thanking you for that sir,” Ariel said quickly. “I thought I was supposed to haunt that bedroom for all eternity, and if you hadn’t performed your spells on me, I’d still be there. I appreciate it, Prospero, I do… But it’s just… it’s hard, you know, having to stay here, year after year. The mansion is bigger than the bedroom, but… I just want to move on.”

“Stay silent and learn your place,” Prospero snapped. “You’re not the one in control here. Don’t forget that.”

Ariel was silent. “Yes, master.”

“I told you I would grant you your freedom, and I will. But not yet. There are a few more things I need you to perform for me first, and I expect you to do it without complaint.”

“Yes, master.”

“I am the owner of this house now, understand? No matter who it belonged to when you were alive—”

“That would… be me, sir.”

“—it belongs to me now, and as you are part of this house you belong to me too. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t, sir. I’m sorry I even brought it up.”

“Now. Turn yourself invisible, and let me know what those men are up to. Don’t let them in the parlor, all right? Frighten them silly if you have to. But this is where I will stay.”

“Yes, master. Right away.”

Prospero waved his hand, and with a flourish, Ariel’s translucent form melted away into the air of the room, as he vanished. Prospero took a deep breath.

“Caliban! Caliban! Where are you, you stupid wretch…?”

Another ghost materialized, slower, this time in the form of a smaller, hunched over little man, crouching on the floor in front of the couch. He was wearing an old fashioned maid’s uniform, and even held a small feather duster.

“What.”

“Caliban, straighten up, would you?” Prospero said, sighing.

“My body has no corporeal form,” Caliban pointed out. “Why does it matter. Plus I’m dead.”

“Have you finished doing the dishes like I asked you to do?” Prospero asked.

“Not yet. But I got distracted!”

“What kind of ghost servant are you if you can’t even follow through with a simple task of doing the dishes? We’re having company tonight and I expect the house to be in tip top shape.”

“Where’s Miranda?”

“In her room sleeping, and you’re not to go in there, Caliban, I forbid it,” Prospero said in as stern a voice as he could muster.

Caliban put on a pouty face. “Ugh, fine. Whatever.”

“Now go work on those dishes and I don’t want to see a spot on them.”

“What’s the point in being able to interact with solid objects if you just use them to do chores all the time?” Caliban muttered to himself, phasing through the wall and heading into the kitchen.

Prospero sank back down onto the couch. Ariel and Caliban were both following orders, Miranda should be asleep and out of the way when the others came in, everything was prepared.

And just as he thought that, there was a loud knock on the door which reverberated throughout the entire house. Prospero allowed himself a very small smile. The fun was just beginning.


	3. Chapter 3

Fernanda waited in the car and listened to the drunk snorings of her nanny and the intern for a grand total of maybe fifteen minutes before she’d had enough.

“Yeah, that’s it, I’m going in to check on them,” she muttered to herself, shoving her useless phone in her pocket. Bracing herself for the rain and wind, she stumbled out of the car, slamming the door shut, and running as best she could, making her way towards the house. Everything in her brain was telling her this was a terrible idea, but it was better than waiting in the car, growing colder by the second.

No sign of anyone outside the house as she approached. Breathing heavily, she made her way towards the front door, when suddenly she stopped, her ears perking up. Through the battering of the rain and the rolling of thunder, she heard the distinct sound of a beat. It sounded like one of her favorite rock anthems. It seemed to be coming from the right side of the extremely large mansion. Hardly knowing what she was doing, she rounded the corner of the house, and looked up through the pouring rain to spot a balcony, fairly high up, that happened to be conveniently located next to a large tree. The music was a bit louder now, but she still couldn’t quite make out the song. But she was getting soaked through, and an image flashed through her head of a lightning bolt descending upon her head and frying her to pieces where she stood, and she immediately put on a burst of energy, running to the tree and grasping one of the lower branches. The branch was slippery from the rain, but Fernanda had had plenty of practice climbing trees in her lifetime. She hoisted herself up fairly easily, shimmying up the tree like a monkey and making her way to the balcony. The branches deposited her onto the small ledge, and she ran to the window, and tried it. To her surprise, it was unlocked. The wind blew the window open the second Fernanda pulled it the slightest bit out, and the shutter slammed against the side of the house with a bang.

Fernanda leapt through the open window and grunted as she pulled it shut. Thankful for the dryness and the warm air, she breathed a huge sigh of relief, and then glanced around to check her surroundings. She seemed to be in a bedroom, but a fancy one, and an old fashioned one. But the girl sitting on the bed was far more interesting than the furnishings of the room.

She stared at her, completely wide eyed, in utter fascination at this dripping wet monstrosity that had just made her way through the window of her personal space. Fernanda immediately took a step back and began to stammer almost unintelligibly.

“Hey! Wow. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know… I didn’t mean… this is not what it looks like I swear to you, I’m not a robber or anything! Let me explain! See, our car, you know, we were on a road trip, just, you know, passing through, and our car crashed, or we swerved, right, and we ended up in a ditch, and you know, I was with my dad, see, and he came here to see if he could find help, I was waiting in the car with my phone but my phone’s dead and I can’t really call anyone for help! So I came up to the house ‘cause like, I didn’t wanna wait in the car, and I heard a song or something coming from here, but you don’t have any music playing so maybe it was just my imagination, but I wanted to get out of the rain and the tree was right there and…” She trailed off, realizing the girl on the bed was still staring at her with mouth completely agape, and didn’t seem to be registering a word she was saying.

“Look. Uh. I’m sorry,” Fernanda said finally. “I’m really, really sorry.”

“You’re… you’re a person,” the girl said softly, finally responding.

“I… what?”

“A person. You’re a person. You’re… how did you get here?”

“I just told you! We were just…” Fernanda trailed off, and this time she was the one whose mouth was a bit agape. This girl was seriously pretty. She was wearing jeans and a slightly tattered sweater that didn’t look very warm, with a beanie covering her head, her jet black curly hair poking out. Her dark skin was smooth and perfect, and her dark brown eyes shimmered in the dim light of the lamp which lit up the room with its warm glow. The girl herself seemed to light up the room…

Fernanda shook her head to clear it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even introduce myself,” she stammered, feeling herself going red, but hoping it could just be chalked up to the cold and wet. “My name’s Fernanda.”

“I’m… Miranda.”

“Nice to, uh, meet you. Now, I don’t wanna be a bother, since, you know, I broke into your house and all that… but would it be too much to ask for some warm clothes? I left all my shit in the car.”

“Okay…” the girl said slowly, getting up, while keeping her eyes on Fernanda the entire time, and going to the closet and grabbing a blanket. Fernanda stripped off her soaking wet coat, and shivered slightly, trying to get used to the much warmer bedroom. She couldn’t stop staring at the girl, Miranda, who couldn’t stop staring at her.

“So… I guess… we were just looking for, like, a landline phone or something. Or a mechanic who could come fix our car? We crashed like just down the road, and—”

“You’re the people my father warned me about,” Miranda said slowly, as if this was just dawning on her for the first time.

“What?”

“The crash, it was…” she trailed off, as if she didn’t want to reveal something. “I mean… I’m sorry. I just… I’ve never seen another person my age before. Or… another living person that is not my father or my reflection. I’m just a little… shocked. I didn’t know what people my age could look like.”

Fernanda laughed. “That’s a good one, never seen another…wait. You’re serious?”

Miranda nodded solemnly.

“I…wow, wh—that’s…that’s insane,” Fernanda stammered, running her fingers through her hair. “Well, I guess… if I’m the first person you’ve ever seen, you don’t have anyone to compare me to, huh?”

“I suppose not.”

“Wait a second, you said ‘living’ before.”

“What?”

“You said… you said you’d never seen another _living_ person besides your father. What did you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said. This house is inhabited with ghosts.”

Fernanda snorted. “Uh huh. You know, you may be hot, but you’re a little bit delusional, Miranda.”

“…hot?”

“Yeah. Hot. Good looking. Cute. Attractive. Whatever you wanna call it, you got it.”

“Oh…well…thank you, I suppose.” Miranda took a step towards the newcomer. “My father talked about people as if they were awful, but you don’t seem very awful to me.”

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” The words were out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying.

“What?!”

_That’s ballsy, Fern, even for you. You just met this girl!_ Fernanda thought to herself, but she squashed the voice of reason in her head. Of course, now definitely wasn’t the time to be picking up chicks… but at the same time, Miranda was by far the cutest girl Fernanda had ever seen, and she couldn’t deny that there was some sort of… spark between them. Fernanda would be the last to admit to the possibility of love at first sight, but she wasn’t sure what else this fluttering in her chest, and heat in her face could be.  

“I can show you how,” she heard herself saying. “I’m really good at it, not to brag at all. But only if you want to!”

“I… want to?”

“Is that a yes, you want to, or a you’re not sure if you want to or not?”

Miranda’s cheeks flushed slightly and she nodded, stepping forward towards Fernanda, who leaned in very slowly. How do you kiss someone who’s never even seen another person before? Gently, she figured. So she closed her eyes, and leaned in, and softly placed the most gentle kiss she could upon Miranda’s lips. Miranda’s eyes opened wide, and Fernanda pulled away.

Miranda stared at her, her cheeks flushing even more.

“That was lovely,” she said breathlessly. “You’re beautiful.”

“Why, thank you,” Fernanda said, smiling. “I know this seems crazy, Miranda… me bursting into your window like this, you never having seen another person in your life for some weird reason, the instant attraction, it’s like… nothing actually matters but you and I, and I don’t care about the circumstances of our meeting, because there’s something special between us, there’s—”

Miranda cut her off by leaning into another kiss, and this one lingered, and Fernanda gasped slightly as Miranda began to kiss her harder, tracing her lips with her tongue. Fernanda caressed the girl’s back with her left hand, holding the back of her head with her right, feeling as if she was melting into some sort of blissful oblivion. She’d kissed plenty of girls before, but this felt so…right, so natural and perfect. It was as if no one was real but her and Miranda and the feeling of her, and the taste of her…

Until the door blew open with a bang.

The girls leapt apart instantly, turning to face the door, and Fernanda immediately felt her face turn crimson red. An older man stood in the entryway, one she had never seen before, with long black hair, and strange, terrifying eyes. He wore an old fashioned robe of some kind, and held a book in one hand.

“Father!” Miranda squeaked.

“You!” the man, Miranda’s father apparently, said in a deep tone, pointing the book towards Fernanda, who took an involuntary step back. She immediately jumped into stammering mode.

“Sir, I am so so sorry, I heard weird music outside so I climbed the tree, and came into this room but I swear I wasn’t trying to upset anyone, and I don’t wanna steal your daughter, or do anything with your daughter, I promise, we were in a car crash just outside, and we were just looking for a phone I swear, I’m here with my dad and some others, they gotta be here, I swear to you, I promise I’m not trying to hide anything, we just needed somewhere to get out of the storm…”

“Silence!” the man boomed, still pointing at her. Fernanda shut her mouth and gulped. This was definitely the scariest man she’d ever seen in her life, and all of the good happy warm feelings had drained away, leaving her cold and terrified. “Who are you?”

“M-my name is Fernanda, sir,” she stammered. “Fernanda Storm.”

“Storm, you say? Who is your father?”

“A-Alonso Storm, sir. C.E.O. of Naples Incorporated. We were just on a business trip, like I said, and our van crashed just outside the house, and if I could just borrow a phone…”

“You’re lying,” the man said.

“I—I’m not! I swear! I’m not lying, I am…”

 “Silence! You’re lying. You just sneak into our house and try and seduce my daughter!”

“That isn’t what happened, Father!” Miranda spoke up, her voice high but determined. “She was only trying to find a way out of the storm! I kissed her!”

“Be quiet, Miranda,” the man ordered, in a slightly less terrifying voice. “This is what people are like. They lie and they cheat and they take your inheritance!”

“What are you talking about?” Fernanda cried. Almost literally, she could feel tears burning behind her eyelids, which was literally the most embarrassing thing she could imagine. If she burst into tears now, Miranda would never wanna make out with her again.

“You’re coming with me,” the man said, pointing at Fernanda. “Come. Now.”

“What? Where? Why? Where’s my dad? Where are the others?”

“Don’t mind that now,” he said. “You come with me. Miranda, you stay here, I did not tell you you could leave the room.”

“Father, please!” Miranda cried, her voice choked. “Don’t take her! This is the first person in years and years I’ve been able to talk to and—”

“Didn’t look like you were doing much talking to me!”

“Father, come on!” Miranda cried, stomping her foot, and for an instant, she reminded Fernanda deeply of herself. “This is ridiculous! I’m fifteen years old, I’m allowed to make my own decisions about who I love and who I want to be with!”

“This has nothing to do with you kissing girls,” he replied. “And everything to do with you kissing this girl. She’s a liar.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Fernanda yelled. “And who the fuck even are you? What is this house? Why are you here in the middle of nowhere? And where the _fuck_ is my family?”

“No more questions,” he said. “Ariel!”

“Father, please—” Miranda tried to cut in, but she was cut off by the sudden appearance of a ghostly man, hovering down from the ceiling, with a distinctly bored expression on his face.

“Yes, master?” he sighed.

Fernanda stared at him, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head.

“What….the… fuck…?” she muttered, as her head suddenly began to spin, and her limbs began to shake. This couldn’t be real, she had to have fallen asleep in the car and this was all just some really really weird dream or something… there was definitely not a ghost standing, or rather floating, in front of her, wearing a waistcoat and suit, and looking like he’d literally rather be anywhere else.

“Please take care of this bratty child,” the man said, nodding to the ghost, who stretched out his hand towards Fernanda. She opened her mouth to scream, but never got the sound out, as the world suddenly greyed and darkened, and she felt herself slipping to the ground, quickly losing consciousness. Miranda’s screams of protest was the last thing she heard as her world went dark.


	4. Chapter 4

To be honest, Antonio and Sebastian were not worried enough about the fact that the large front doors to the mansion were completely unlocked. After knocking a few times, they tried the doors and to their surprise, they swung right open.

“Hello? Anybody there?” Their voices echoed in the rather large entryway as the three men stomped their boots and shivered in the relative warmth and dryness of the house. Staring around, they saw that it was clearly very old, but seemingly well enough maintained.

“Someone has to be living here,” Alonso said, his voice trailing off as he examined the entryway. “Otherwise, why would it be so clean? But why was the door unlocked?”

Antonio and Sebastian glanced sideways at each other, shrugging.

“Why are you not concerned about this?”

“Sir, maybe we should focus on finding a phone or something,” Sebastian said slowly. “Or we try and find the owner of this house.”

“It’s very quiet,” Antonio muttered, glancing around uneasily. “I’m not sure how much I like this, guys.” He subtly slipped his hand into Sebastian’s, but Alonso didn’t even notice. He was too busy examining every inch of the place. The ceiling was tall, there was a tall coat rack next to the door, and it led off into a large hallway with blue patterned carpeting.

“Do you think Fernanda’s going to be okay?” Alonso said nervously as they made their way into the hallway, not bothering to take off their sopping wet shoes. “I’m beginning to wonder if letting her wait in the car was not the best idea…”

“She’s in the car,” Antonio said. “She’ll be fine. It’s not like the car is any more likely to be struck by lightning than this rickety old house.”

“Why did I even bring her…” Alonso lamented. “I wanted to give her poor mother a break… the child is the definition of a handful….  But I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to bring her along on a business trip. And now she could get hurt, and it’s all my fault. I really am a pretty terrible excuse for a father, aren’t I?”

Sebastian sighed. “No, you’re not. You’re doing what you think is best. Also she has Stephanie waiting in the car as well.”

“Passed out drunk in the car you mean,” Antonio put in.

They had passed the hallway now and entered into a large dining room. Several tall portraits hung on every wall, and the almost comically large table was spread before them, empty except for placemats. A large chandelier hung above the table, and it was very dark, and just slightly foreboding. Alonso felt a strange chill go through his body, and he shivered ostensibly.

“Are you… okay, sir?” Sebastian asked, glancing sideways at him.

Alonso straightened. “I’m fine.”

“This place is pretty impressive if you think about it,” Antonio mentioned. “I wonder if there’s a way to turn on the lights.”

“Maybe whoever lives here just isn’t home,” Sebastian suggested. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind some visitors.”

“Or perhaps he’s waiting to catch us…” Alonso said. “Waiting to jump out and accuse us of intruding, and call the cops on us! Also the longer we dawdle here without fixing the van, the longer we are away from Chicago.

“The storm is still strong,” Antonio pointed out. “We’d never make it to Chicago regardless. If we’d stopped at the rest stop like I suggested…”

“Or not taken your stupid, clearly faulty shortcut…” Sebastian continued.

“Enough!” Alonso said. “I feel terrible enough as it is without you two making me feel even more awful. I know, it’s my fault we’re stuck here and it’s my fault that Fernanda came as well. I don’t need you to remind me, all right?”

To his mild surprise, Sebastian and Antonio shut up.

“Here, look there’s another room off to the left,” Alonso said, motioning for the others to follow him into the side hallway, and into a larger sitting room of sorts. This room was actually lit, with an old fashioned lantern sitting on the table, and a few candles on shelves nearby. Several large couches sat nearby, and the carpet was lush. It seemed like the pinnacle of luxury.

“This is insane…” Alonso muttered.

“Hello?” Sebastian called out. “Is anyone here? Anyone at all who can help us?”

Invisible, Ariel observed their conversation with only the smallest hint of amusement, one eyebrow raised skeptically. Still not sure why Prospero couldn’t seem to bear to confront the men himself, of course, it was up to Ariel to do everything. He sighed without breath, closed his eyes, and reluctantly made his way towards the three men, waving an invisible hand above Alonso’s head.

Alonso suddenly yawned widely.

“I’m suddenly… quite sleepy…” he murmured, finding his way to one of the couches and sinking down into its plush pillows. “It’s been… quite a long night. Perhaps I should just rest here for a while, and then when I awaken, we can…we can figure out what to do… find the owner of this house and borrow a telephone or something…”

He closed his eyes, and within seconds, had passed out and was so fast asleep that he was already snoring profusely.

Sebastian and Antonio stared at their fast asleep boss.  

“That’s… weird,” Sebastian said quietly.

“I can never fall asleep that quickly…” Antonio said, with a hint of jealousy. “But how can the man sleep at a time like this? We have to figure out something! Find someone! There’s gotta be _someone_ in this house, the door wasn’t just randomly unlocked.”

“Unless…” Sebastian said, staring at the candle and the lamplight, which cast eerie shadows on the wall. “I don’t know, Tony, I’m getting a very very weird feeling about all of this. It’s very unsettling, you know? It almost feels like…” He trailed off.  

“What?! What does it almost feel like? Sebastian, get a grip on yourself!” Antonio grabbed his boyfriend’s arms. “This isn’t some… some weird ghost story, okay? Everything’s fine! Everything’s normal!” He forced a laugh but it seemed like he was trying to convince himself.

“Hey. Calm down.”

“I am calm! You’re the one who’s freaking out about… unsettling houses or whatever. This house might be unsettling but it’s also pretty damn expensive. There’s literally no way someone would just leave a giant mansion like this in the middle of nowhere to be abandoned. And someone must have lit the candles and the lamp! There’s literally no way we are the only ones in this house, okay?”

“Yeah, but you gotta admit, it seems like the beginning of a horror story or something…” Sebastian said. “How abandoned the place seems… how Alonso just fell asleep like that… You gotta admit this is mildly terrifying.”

He was acting braver than he actually was, Antonio could tell. He put his arm around Sebastian and squeezed him tightly.

“We’re okay, all right? We are totally okay. Alonso’s just tired. It is the middle of the night, and he had been driving for a long time. I really don’t blame him. There are no such things as ghosts, Sebastian, and I can’t believe I’m explaining this to you…”

 “Hey, you’re scared too,” Sebastian accused.

Antonio glanced around the lavishly furnished sitting room. “This place is seriously impressive,” he said. “It’s huge. If someone’s here, maybe they’re just like… upstairs or something. We haven’t even found a staircase yet. This place is positively massive.”  

 “Probably not as big as Alonso’s house,” Sebastian said, glancing sideways at the man, sprawled out on the couch, his mouth agape. “He’s crazy rich, you know. C.E.O. is a pretty lucrative position.”

“Oh, and you’re one to talk, Mr. Second in Command,” Antonio said. “Alonso’s been great to you, he treats you amazingly.”

“Keeps everything for himself more like,” Sebastian said. “I’ve worked for him for nearly six years now and what do I have to show for it? It took me forever to even get this far! And just because I’m his assistant doesn’t mean I enjoy any of the benefits he does. I’ve worked hard for this company, if anything, I’m the one who should be the C.E.O., not him.”

“Why are we even talking about him?” Antonio said, with a trace of bitterness. “What did he ever do for us, huh? Him and his stupid no office romance policy. Constantly having to hide… act like we’re nothing more than coworkers.”

Sebastian glanced sideways towards his boyfriend. “Well… he’s not awake now, is he? And no one does seem to be around…”

“God, Sebastian, is now really the time?” Antonio said, glancing around nervously. “What if he wakes up?”

Sebastian took a step closer towards the slightly shorter Antonio, placing his hand on his shoulder and tracing it down his arm slowly. “Come on, I need a distraction… Besides I haven’t been able to kiss you this entire trip, do you know what kind of torture that is?”

Antonio really didn’t need as much convincing as he let on, and so he didn’t protest when Sebastian leaned down and kissed him firmly on the mouth.

They pulled apart, and Antonio stared at him for a few seconds, before giving in. It was as if a dam had broken within him, and all of the feelings he’d been suppressing and pushing back for so long flowed forth… It was as if all of the stresses and fears of this mysterious mansion, the strangeness of it all, and the stress of the business trip melted away as he leaned forward and kissed Sebastian again, harder this time. It had been far too long since the two of them had been able to be in any way affectionate towards each other, lest Alonso discover their hidden romance. God, Antonio had missed it.

They began to kiss harder and more passionately, as Sebastian pushed Antonio onto a second couch, straddling him, and bending down to lightly kiss his jawbone. Antonio moaned softly, trying to remain as quiet as possible, so as not to accidently awaken Alonso. Sebastian leaned in, very close to Antonio’s ear.   

“Let’s just ditch Alonso,” he whispered.

Antonio’s eyes flew open, and he sat up slightly, much of the passion he’d been feeling died away at the mention of Alonso’s name. “Wh-what?”

“Ditch him. Leave him here. It doesn’t matter. We go back to the car, wait till the storm dies down and then we can get outta here. Say he, I dunno, died in the car crash or something.”

“What are you…?”

“I can be the new C.E.O. and we’ll be rich and _finally_ be able to stop hiding our relationship.”

Antonio considered this. It didn’t sound half bad.

“I suppose… that’s not a terrible plan… but what about Fernanda? She’s sixteen years old. Is she really ready to lose a father?”

“Does it really seem like Fernanda loves her father very much?” Sebastian said. “I mean look at how she talks to him.”

“Yeah, but all teenagers are like that,” Antonio said. “Deep down I’m sure she cares about him, how could she not?”

“She’ll manage, I’m sure. If she even managed to wait in the car like we told her to. Knowing her she’s probably come barging into the house already.”

Antonio wanted to do what Sebastian was suggesting. He, too, was quite tired of Alonso breathing down their necks all the time, living in fear of him finding out about their forbidden relationship.

“No office romance is such a stupid policy anyway…” Antonio said. “I mean, what kind of policy is that? If people are working together, of course they’re gonna hit it off!”

“Exactly! He’s leaving us no choice with his ridiculous work policies. I’d be a far better C.E.O. regardless, you know I would, you know me!”

“That’s true… also it was Alonso’s fault we even ended up in this mess in the first place. If he hadn’t taken the shortcut or stopped at that rest stop, we’d still be on our way to Chicago and none of this would have ever happened! It’s his fault, so he’s the one who should have to pay the penalty.”

“Seriously! What a total jerk! That’s what we can just tell people. We tried to warn him, you know, we couldn’t help it. Come on, let’s _go_!”

“All right. All right.” Antonio got up, slipping his hand into Sebastian’s, squeezing it tightly. “Let’s go before he wakes up.”

Ariel, who had been watching, invisible from behind the couch on which Alonso lay with very little amusement on his face (but relieved they weren’t making out anymore), sighed again, leaning forward to whisper something in Alonso’s ear.

Alonso sat up groggily.

“Hm? What? What’s going on?”

Antonio and Sebastian froze.

“We were just, uh, going to check and see if someone was home!” Antonio said quickly.

Sebastian nodded, noticing Alonso glance at their hands, their fingers locked together. Seb quickly pulled his hand apart from his boyfriend’s. “Uhhh, Antonio was scared.”

“Well, that’s quite enough dallying, I’m coming with you, I’m feeling much more refreshed now,” Alonso said, yawning and stretching before standing up.

“You were asleep for maybe ten minutes…” Antonio muttered, too quietly for Alonso to hear him.

“Come on,” Alonso said. “There’s gotta be someone here we can find. I refuse to believe that nobody lives here. Let’s go.”

Antonio and Sebastian glanced at each other helplessly, before following Alonso out of the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Trink woke up in a daze of confusion to the loudest clap of thunder they’d heard in their life, that sounded like a cannon going off. They started, eyes flying open, and struggled to right themself. They’d been sleeping at quite the uncomfortable angle, and their neck was stiff and in a lot of pain.  

“What…happened?” they muttered to themselves, glancing around at the interior of the van. It was tilted at an odd angle, seemed they’d crashed into a ditch or something. Panic suddenly gripped them. Had everyone died? Were they the only survivor of a horrible car crash? Were  _they_ the one who’d died? And this was some weird version of the afterlife? Heaven or hell, Trink had no idea.

Then they realized Stephanie was also still in the van, sprawled out, completely knocked out in the backseat next to Trink. But… she didn’t appear to be breathing. Trink’s hands flew to their mouth in shock as they reached out a tentative hand to prod Stephanie’s shoulder. Nothing. No movement. Trink gasped.

“Oh my god. She’s dead.”

Their own voice sounded so loud to their ears, and thunder rolled again overhead suddenly, startling them. They became aware of the harsh rain pounding against the top of the van, and they tried to take deep breaths.

“Okay, Trink, don’t freak out,” they told themselves. “Don’t freak out. It’s fine. You’re fine. This is fine. Everything is fine. Everyone else must have survived, or why wouldn’t their bodies be here? Just… just calm down, Trink. This wasn’t part of your training, but that’s fine. It’s fine. You’re… you’re okay.” They fought down the rising panic and cupped their hands against the glass to try and see where they were.

A dark shape loomed in the distance, on a hill nearby… a large house. It was ominous, but that must be where everyone had went. And it was Trink’s only option: far better than remaining in the car with a dead body. Pushing the door to the van open, Trink stumbled out of the car into the pouring rain, and took in deep breaths of the fresh air. The rain pelted their skin, the chill of it soaking into them and snapping them out of their panicky state. This was fine, they just had to get to the house and find the others, Alonso and all them. Perhaps they’d thought Trink was dead, and that’s why they left her in the car.

“Or maybe they left you because you’re just a lousy intern and only came along because you thought it’d be a great way to get in with Alonso so you could get that promotion faster…” Trink muttered to themselves. “And you’re not really much use to anyone here, are you?”

Pushing those negative thoughts out of their head, they slogged through the mud up the hill towards the large house. The front door was almost certainly locked, so Trink didn’t bother trying, as they made their way around the side, beginning to shiver from the cold droplets lashing down on them. A flash of lightning illuminated the ground with a blinding flash, and they gasped, stumbling backwards as the thunder rolled again. How long had this storm been going on? And how long were they out anyway? An image of themselves being struck by lightning and fried to a black crisp popped unbidden into their mind. They had to get inside, and fast.

Then they spotted it, around the back of the house, a smaller door that looked slightly ajar. Breathing out a sigh of relief, they made their way towards it and it opened with a creak.

After closing the door firmly behind them, they looked around the room they had entered, shivering again, trying to shake the water off themselves, but it seemed to have seeped into their bones. They were in a kitchen, one of the biggest ones they’d ever seen, the sink piled high with dirty dishes that seemed to be in the middle of being washed. But the entire room was completely vacant, as if someone had gotten up in the middle of doing dishes and rushed out for some reason.

“H-hello?” they called out, stuttering a bit on their words. “Is… is anyone here? Alonso? Sebastian? Antonio? Anyone?”

No response but their own echo.

“Okay…” Trink muttered to themself. “That’s fine. This is fine. You’re fine. It’s fine, there’s gotta be someone around here.”

Taking a few steps into the kitchen to examine the counters, a loud clanging sound caused them to jump out of their skin. They whirled around, expecting to see someone there, but it appeared that one of the bowls had toppled off the pile of dirty dishes into the sink. Water still dripped ominously from the faucet as if it had been turned off in a hurry.

This felt suspiciously like the beginning of a horror movie, not that Trink was the type of person who could stomach horror movies.

“It’s… it’s fine, it just fell,” Trink said, their voice shaky, trying to reassure themself. They could feel the hair on the back of their neck standing up, and turned around, half expecting to see someone else standing there. But it was still empty.

Then they spotted it. The door to what was presumably a pantry, cracked open just a tiny bit. It had moved. Trink wasn’t imagining it.

Even though every molecule in their body screamed for them to turn around and run, they very cautiously approached the slightly open pantry door… if anything just to make sure it was nothing. But before they reached it, the door flung open, and they yelped, stumbling backwards, and nearly falling right down on their butt.

“Please don’t hurt me!” they said in unison with… whoever was in the pantry. That drew them aback.

Trink stared at the man staring back at them. He was a bit shorter than Trink, a slightly pudgy man wearing, for whatever reason, a maid’s dress and an apron. He looked utterly terrified, recoiling from Trink as if they were the strange creature. But weirdest of all, this person looked almost translucent… But that was impossible. People couldn’t be translucent.

“Please… I am begging you…” the man said. “Don’t hurt me. Just… just leave me alone, okay? I am doing the dishes, I swear, I am getting them done! I wasn’t hiding because I wasn’t…working I was just hiding because…”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Trink asked.  

“I’m talking about the fact that Prospero sent you to terrorize me, and I promise you, I was doing the dishes, there’s really  _really_ no need!”

“Who’s… Prospero?”

The man eyed Trink suspiciously. “Who are you?”

“I… my name’s Trink. I’m a…an intern with Storm Incorporated, see, we were on a business trip to Chicago and the van crashed, and I’m just trying to find my boss and the others that were with me… I was just hoping for like… a phone or something, or a place to wait out the rain.”

“You’re not… a spirit?”

“What? No!”

“You’re not a ghost I’ve just never seen before?”

“No! I’m a person! A living, breathing person!”

The man’s eyes went wide. “That’s… almost scarier, you know?”

“W-wait, and you’re not?”

“Not what?”

“Not a… not… you’re… you’re a—”

“I’m dead. If that’s what you’re trying to say.”

Trink took an involuntary step back. “Ha. Real funny there, dude.”

“What? Are you afraid of ghosts? Because I’m quite afraid of you.”

“Of course I’m afraid of… I mean, ghosts aren’t real! That’s not like… a thing that actually exists in real life, you’re not… you can’t be…”

A knock at the door startled both of them, and Trink nearly jumped out of their skin.

“Another spirit!” the ghost man cried, darting back into the pantry so fast it was like he vanished. In a blind panic, Trink followed him, closing the door so that it was only open just a crack, but they couldn’t be seen, as the door to the kitchen from the outside burst open and a dark figure, sopping wet from rain burst in.

“HELLO? IS ANYONE HOME?”

The slurred voice sounded somewhat familiar, but Trink wasn’t sure if they recognized it or not.

“Hey! Hello?! Anyone? Huh. No one, huh. That’s weird. It seems like someone was here not too long ago…”

Trink heard the sound of stumbling footsteps towards the countertop. And then a gasp.

“Here we go!”

They heard the distinct sounds of a bottle uncorking and some gulps. A bottle of wine, perhaps? That seemed like something... it couldn’t be... 

“I’m gonna be tortured, I’m gonna be tortured, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the man in the pantry with them muttered under his breath over and over again.

“Shut up!” Trink hissed. “You’re gonna get us caught!”

The footsteps ceased, and Trink’s heart stopped for a second. The footsteps began to come closer and then the door was flung open and dim light from the kitchen poured in, and Trink screamed.

“Hey!”

Blinking and adjusting to the light, Trink suddenly realized who it was.

“W-wait… St-Stephanie?!”

“Trink?!”

“Holy shit, you’re alive!” Trink leapt into their friends arms, tackling her in a huge hug that would probably have lifted her off her feet if she hadn’t been practically twice Trink’s height.

“What, did you think I was dead?”

“I woke up in the van and you were sprawled out on the seat, and I thought you’d died in the crash, and I didn’t know where everyone else had went so I decided to come and see if anyone was home or if there was a place to wait out the rain, and I ended up in here, but the storm’s still raging and I am FREAKING out, Stephanie, oh my god, I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Dude, you’re okay,” she said. “We’re totally fine. I mean, I have no idea where the others went, but they weren’t in the car when I woke up either, so… they gotta be in the house somewhere.”

“That’s exactly what I thought but all I found was, uh… this guy.”

Trink glanced down in surprise to see the man in the maid outfit again, standing very close to them, staring at them with eyes wide as if he’d never seen another human being before. He still seemed translucent.

“You’re not a spirit sent to torture me either?” he asked, hopefully.

“Uh… I’m not a spirit, dude. I’m just trying to wait out the storm. And maybe find my boss. Maybe. See, I’m supposed to be watching this bratty child, but she’s gone missing, and if she gets hurt, I’m gonna be in deep water. You haven’t seen a kid around here, huh? Teenager? About sixteen or so? Blonde hair? Probably messing around on her cell phone?”

“I only know one teenager, and she lives here,” the man said. “But she has dark hair, so it’s probably not the same one you’re thinking of. Are you… going to torture me now?”

“Uhhhh no? Who are you?”

“My name is Caliban, I’m… I live here. Well… not live technically. I’m not alive. But I… reside here. And I was just in the middle of doing dishes, and I promise I’ll get right back to them!”

“We’re not here to tell you to do the dishes, dude,” Stephanie said, grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter, and taking another sip. 

“How can you think about drinking at a time like this?” Trink said. “Don’t you see how… crazy this all is? An abandoned mansion with only one person here but he claims he’s a ghost…?”

“If you’re a ghost why can you do the dishes?” Stephanie asked, taking another gulp. 

“Technically I’m a poltergeist,” the man, Caliban, said. “But… I don’t cause mischief. At least… not anymore. I’m bound to Prospero, the master of this house, and as long as he’s here, I gotta do what he tells me. I’m basically his servant.” 

“A… poltergeist?”

“I can interact with the world,” Caliban said. “At least the world within this house. Can’t go too far from the mansion, I’m tethered to it. Just like all the other ghosts here.”

Trink gulped. “There are… other ghosts?”

“Sure,” Caliban said. “We all lived here at one time or another, and ever since Prospero showed up, we all gotta do what he says. It’s miserable! It’s bad enough I’m still linked to my old body, but having to do menial work like a servant… I mean. I used to be a servant. Full disclosure. But I thought I’d finally escape that by, ya know, dying. But apparently not, because Prospero needs someone to do all his boring chores for him so he can just sit on his ass and boss people around. It’s humiliating.”

“Who is this Prospero dude?” Stephanie asked.

“Dunno. He just showed up here one day with his daughter and never left. He really has it in for me, and I have no idea why…”

“This… this can’t be happening…” Trink muttered. “I must be dreaming. This can’t… this is a dream. A really fucking crazy dream.”

“Here, this’ll help,” Stephanie said, handing the bottle of wine to her companion. Trink shrugged, everything was crazy anyway, may as well drink a bit. They had no idea how long it had been since they last ate, and the wine was bitter and didn’t taste good, but perhaps it was better than standing around being terrified.

“Want some?” Stephanie offered the bottle to Caliban. “I mean… I found it in your kitchen. But it’s pretty good actually, and there’s plenty left!”

Caliban’s eyes widened. “I’m not… allowed to eat the food of the living.”

“But can you?”

“I’ve never tried.”

“Try it! Come on, it’s pretty good!”

Caliban almost reluctantly took the bottle and raised it to his lips. “Hm. Not bad actually. And I can… actually seem to retain it. That’s exciting.”

“This is literally insane!” Trink cried.

“Hey, maybe this’ll give you some inspiration for your next stand up routine,” Stephanie said, nudging Trink in the ribs. Trink scowled at her.

“You know perfectly well I don’t do that anymore. I was a failure.”

“Yeah, well, that’s just ‘cause your life was boring. Getting pretty exciting now, huh?”

“I can’t believe this… I finally decide to get a normal job, get a normal life… like my mom always told me to do…” Trink muttered. “Become an intern she said, intern at Storm, it’s a great company with great benefits, and it’ll sure be better than whatever you were trying to do with your failed comedy… And finally I listened to her, I thought maybe, just maybe, that’d be a great way for me to get back on my feet and finally get out of my parents’ basement! I’ve been working with Storm for a month, Stephanie! I only even went on this trip ‘cause I was hoping for a promotion, and now we end up crashed and in a huge abandoned house in the middle of nowhere during a fucking storm, and we meet a… a…. ghost, or whatever the fuck! And all YOU can do is drink a random bottle of wine! For all you know it could be.... poisoned or something!” 

“Hey. Trink. Listen to me.” Stephanie put her arms on Trink’s shoulders and looked them in the eye. “You’re gonna be okay. Okay? It’s gonna be okay. We’re alive. And now…. All we gotta do is find the others. They gotta be in this house somewhere, okay? And Caliban will help us. Right, dude?”

Caliban happened to be staring up at Stephanie as if she was a god or something.

“I… would like some more of that… magical bottle liquid please,” he said.

“Knock yourself out.” Stephanie handed him the bottle and he began to take grateful sips.

“You know.. you’re pretty nice for a living human,” Caliban said.

Stephanie put her arm around Trink and grinned at the shorter ghost. “Yeah I suppose I am.”

“You don’t even want to torture me, and that’s a step up,” Caliban said. 

“I mean, I don’t really have much interest in torturing ghosts, especially ghosts that could help us,” Stephanie said.

Trink stared at her. She had just automatically accepted that ghosts were real? Could this night get any weirder.

“Here, save some for Trink,” Stephanie said, grabbing the bottle out of Caliban’s hands and handing it to Trink. “You need a drink, dude. You’re freaking out again. For a former comedian, you sure are pretty uptight.”

“I’m not uptight,” Trink argued. “I’m reasonably freaking out about the absolute insanity of our situation right now!”

“And yet you’re calm enough to use big words apparently,” Stephanie said. “C’mon, Trink, lighten up a little bit. I’m sure the others are all right.”

“And what if they’re not? I need this job, Steph.”

“Oh, shit, that reminds me. I better find Fernanda stat or Alonso’s gonna have my ass,” Stephanie said. “What do you say, Caliban? Wanna help us go look for a teenage brat?”

“I’ll follow you anywhere,” Caliban said earnestly. “As long as you keep giving me that magical liquid.”

“The magical liquid is called wine, and it was literally in the kitchen before we got here,” Trink pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter!” Stephanie cried. “C’mon, let’s go explore this giant house or whatever.” 

Trink sighed. It wasn’t any more insane than waiting around would be. And maybe they’d get lucky and find the others. 

“Let’s go, Cal!” Stephanie said, pointing to Caliban, who was drinking again out of the wine bottle. “Can I call you Cal?”

“Call me whatever you want!” Caliban said. “I follow you now! Not that miserable old Prospero.”

Stephanie was clearly eating up the attention, and Trink rolled their eyes at the way she puffed out her chest and grinned triumphantly.

“Cool. Let’s go find the others then. Caliban, lead the way! Show us around this house!”

“Okay, but we gotta stay clear of the parlor and Prospero’s bedroom,” Caliban said. “I may not follow him anymore but I still don’t wanna run into him.”

“Okay, sure, sure, whatever,” Stephanie said. “Lead the way, sir!”

Trink took a deep breath and followed them out of the kitchen. At least they knew one thing: it wasn’t like this night could get any weirder.


End file.
